


A Little Comfort From Company

by i_cant_function



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Injections, M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, descriptions of needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23298481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_cant_function/pseuds/i_cant_function
Summary: Fluffy domestic fic about Martin doing his T injection and Jon asking to watch. Needles feature heavily in this so be aware of that.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 5
Kudos: 121





	A Little Comfort From Company

**Author's Note:**

> I am trans, so while ymmv on how injections go, this is accurate to my own experiences regarding them. It should also be noted that not every trans man uses injections. The reason I chose to write about them is because they're what I use and know, and they fit well into the little slice of life I wanted to write. Apologies for any inconsistencies in the tense I started writing it past tense and then switched to present tense. I tried my best to go back and fix everything but I may have missed something.

Friday nights are pretty quiet for Jon and Martin. Neither being particularly interested in going out to bars, they tend to spend the night at home watching shows or reading. Around 8 Martin gets up from where he was reading his book and heads to the kitchen, then to the bathroom.

The practice has become familiar to Jon as it happens every other week, but he's, well, a little curious. He walks to the bathroom and pauses at the doorway, making his presence known but trying not to intrude. Martin glances up from his box of supplies. He's stripped his trousers and is down to his boxer briefs with an ice pack stuck under them on his right thigh. Confusion crosses his face when he sees Jon standing there. Jon tries to bring himself to ask, but Martin is already speaking.

"Sorry, did you need to use the bathroom?" Martin begins gathering the little bags of needles and syringes back into the box, intending to leave the room

"No! No. I was just... wondering something." Jon once again tries to get himself to just _ask_. It shouldn't be hard but he doesn't want to phrase it wrong and make Martin uncomfortable, or even worse, accidentally compel him. "Can I- Would it be alright if I watched you while you did your injection?"

"Oh. Sure, I guess. Is there a reason why?" Martin doesn't look much less confused than before.

"Not really, I'm a bit curious, I suppose. About how it works. It's okay if you don't want me here." Jon stumbles over trying to make this sound a bit less. Odd. He's just curious, and not in a sort of Knowing way, just in a regular I wonder what that's like sort of way.

"It's alright. Having you here might make it easier, actually. It can be hard to calm down sometimes and you're comforting to have around." Martin gestures to the floor next to him, and Jon takes a seat next to him, getting a closer look at the contents of the box.

The right side of the box is filled with baggies that have pharmacy labels on them. Each has Martin's name on it, a description of its contents, and brief instructions on what to do with it. There's a small vial, a box of plasters, and few packaged alcohol wipes on the left side of the box. There's an orangish container next to the box that has biohazard symbols on the sides of it, and while Jon hasn't actually seen one before, he's pretty sure it's a sharps container.

"So," Martin grabs a bag full of syringes, "I start by putting the needle I use to draw up the testosterone from the vial onto the syringe." He grabs a packaged syringe from the bag, and then a needle from another bag. Next, he peels back the packaging from the end of the syringe that the needle screws into, and then does the same to the packaging on the needle. With a quick twist, the needle and syringe are put together and the packaging is removed the rest of the way.

"Then, I use an alcohol wipe on the top of the vial, to make sure that the needle doesn't get contaminated with anything." He sets aside the syringe and opens a packaged wipe which he rubs over the top of the vial.

"Now I draw out the T." He picks up the syringe and takes the cap off the needle, and sets the cap on top of the sharps box before picking up the vial. Jon had been paying more attention to what Martin was doing rather than what he was doing it with, and hadn't noticed the size of the needle. It looked like it was an inch long at least, and didn't seem like it'd be at all pleasant to stick it in yourself.

"That's a pretty big needle." Jon isn't particularly afraid of needles, but that one looks pretty nasty, and he's having a hard time imagining someone putting it in themselves.

"Oh I don't use this to inject the T, if that's what you're wondering about." Martin pauses for an answer, Jon nods, and he continues, "This is only used to draw out the T. I do subcutaneous injections, which are done with smaller needles, and only go through the fat layer. If I did intramuscular injections then the needle for injecting would probably be like this, but thankfully I don't, so no worries."

He pushes the needle through the rubbery bit in the center of the vial's top, then tips the vial upside down and draws back the plunger on the syringe. He flicks the syringe a bit, pushes out the air bubbles, and then draws back again. He flips the vial back over and withdraws the needle. He draws the plunger back a bit further, letting air in.

"I have to do that to get the T out of the needle. Don't want to waste any." He explains as he guides the end of the needle into the cap, then uses his other hand to press it down and twist it off, disposing of it into the box that Jon is now sure is a sharps box.

He grabs another bag and takes out a needle. As he removes the packaging and screws it onto the syringe, Jon realizes he can't actually see this one through the cap. The cap gets removed, revealing a needle that, in comparison to the other one, is absolutely tiny.

"Ta-da. This is the one I use to inject." Martin shows off the needle with small gestures, trying not to endanger either of them.

"It's tiny. Like really tiny." Jon says, inspecting it. It couldn't be more than a half an inch and it's so thin that it's almost hard to see.

"Yeah, it's the same kind people with diabetes use. Really small, you can barely even feel it, and you can't even feel it if you numb the injection site first." Martin takes the ice pack out of the bottom of his underwear, and takes another alcohol wipe out of its package. He rubs it over the reddened area the ice pack had sat on, then waves his hand to help the alcohol evaporate faster.

"All clean and ready to go." He pushes the air he'd drawn into the syringe out, and continues until a small drop of T appears at the tip. His hands are shaking and he sets down the syringe on top of the sharps box. "This is the hard part"

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Jon asks, moving a little closer to Martin. He's started taking slow breaths in and out, but his hands are still shaky and his face is tight with anxiety.

"Um. I guess you could rub my back a bit? I've never actually had someone here while I do this." Jon places a hand on Martin's back and starts rubbing in slow circles.

The muscles in his back are tight but they start to relax under Jon's touch.

"The closest I had to someone here while I did this was the first time when I had to call a friend over to watch me for and hour after to make sure I didn't have an allergic reaction. I didn't let them watch though. It made me more nervous than I already was. I don't know why I still get all worked up sometimes while I do this. I've done it for years now. I know how it feels, it's not that bad at all, but I still have a hard time getting myself to do it sometimes." The words have just started pouring out in a stream of nervous conversation, and Jon listens as he runs his hand up and down Martin's back. Eventually Martin stops talking and goes back to breathing slowly.

"Is me being here making it worse?" Jon asks

Martin looks over at him, "No. Not at all. It's been nice to talk through the steps of it with somebody and it's really soothing to have you here." Martin takes a deep breath, "Alright, I'm gonna do it."

He bends forward to take the syringe from where it's resting, but Jon keeps his hand on Martin's back, lightly rubbing across his shoulders with his thumb. Martin pinches the part of his thigh that's still red from the ice pack in his left hand, and pushes the needle in his right into the raised flesh. He lets go with his left, and pulls back the plunger on the syringe a little bit.

"Alright. I have to do that to make sure I'm not in a blood vessel" Martin explains, and then starts to push the plunger down. His lips are pursed as he slowly but surely pushes the last of the liquid out of the syringe. He looks around for a second. "Shit I forgot to get a plaster ready. Could you-"

Martin didn't even get the chance to finish the sentence before Jon was removing a plaster from the box and peeling off the packaging.

"Thanks," A little smile crosses Martin's face as he takes the plaster from Jon and removes the needle from his thigh. A little blood comes out before he swiftly places the plaster over the tiny hole.

Martin replaces the cap on the needle before putting it in the sharps box and closing the top. Then he turns to Jon and collapses against him, pulling him into a hug.

"Thank you. I didn't really realize how much it could help to have another person here with me" He mumbles against Jon's shoulder

"And here I thought I was being a bother, asking if I could watch." Jon replies, hugging Martin back

"It was fine, really. In fact if you want to it'd be nice if you could always be here when I do this." Martin pulls back from the hug

"Of course" Jon presses a quick kiss to Martin's lips and helps him clean up the packaging littering the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> Me: publishes this fic  
> ...  
> ...  
> wait shit shit shit they call them plasters they call them plasters. apologies to those who read this before i fixed it i should really be better at editing all things considered.  
> edited 4/3/2020: changed john to jon i tried so hard to not let it bother me but god i had to change it. i gave it a shot but john feels,,, incorrect


End file.
